


Who I Want to Be

by LuckyLadyLily



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amelie has a Past that might not get addressed this arc, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Gerard is asexual and I don't know how important that will be to the plot but it is important to me, Gerard wont die, but it is hinted at, eventually, hana is going to be super important to all of this, super hero AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2020-03-17 15:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18967810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyLadyLily/pseuds/LuckyLadyLily
Summary: Masked vigilantism wasn't Amélie's calling in life. She didn't fight crime for some deep seated need for justice, she wasn't driven by the haunting specters of her past. It was just a hobby.At least that is what she tells herself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first arc of an AU Comissioned by Rhitta. It has been a ton of fun planning and working on it so far!
> 
> I set the rating to mature right now but I might have to change that later on. I don't plan on having any significant sexual content in this one but there will be some violence and I am not sure what rating it will qualify for until I write it.
> 
> Note that I am not trying to do any french translation or such with Amélie and Gérard, I just have no idea of how to authentically write bilingual characters and I don't have the time right now to dedicate to figuring it out.

Masked vigilantism wasn't Amélie's calling in life. She didn't fight crime for some deep seated need for justice, she wasn't driven by the haunting specters of her past. It was just a hobby. Something to do during the long hours of the night while Gérard was asleep.

She had never really sorted out why she slept so little. It could have been part of her natural abilities, it did fit in with the overall theme of hyper awareness, but Amélie suspected it was a result of the experiments Moira had performed on her. It was too perfectly suited for the role that had been chosen for her.

Whatever the case, Amélie found herself with dozens of extra hours a week and nothing to fill them with. Everyone she knew would be asleep and a person could only spend so many hours reading, playing games, or watching movies. Eventually she had found herself taking walks or riding her motorcycle just to get out of the apartment. From there it was hardly a stretch at all to fall back into her training. She has found herself sneaking across roofs and staking out crowded areas out if habit. It was relaxing to turn on auto pilot and let her combined training and hyper awareness take over.

It wasn't long before it occurred to her that there was a surprising amount of overlap between the skills needed assassination and hero work.

She and Gérard hammered out the practical details over a few brainstorming sessions, Satya provided some basic gear, and within a couple weeks she transformed her late night walks into vigilante patrols. Without the dissonance of Moira's brainwashing competing against her innate personality Amélie found her return to the shadows comforting. Separated from the lights and noise and above all the suffocating press of people all around her the city could even be pleasant. She had been working for only a month but already Gérard was pointing out how much more often she was able to smile and relax.

Tonight was a Friday, her scheduled patrol night. She had decided that a combination of a regular public appearances and unpredictable patrols would keep the criminal element on their toes. Her regular appearance would ensure everyone knew that she was on the job and staying unpredictable at all other times would ensure no one could work around her patrols. She didn't plan on solving any big problems but maybe she could make the world a slightly safer place for a few people. It seemed like a better use of her time than scaling skyscrapers for the hell of it. And as luck would have it Amélie had even managed to find a regular appointment each Friday night to justify her regular appearance, and it was time that she started getting ready.

After a night in watching movies and eating chinese take out in bed together Gérard was already fast asleep, snoring loud and content. Amélie carefully bent over him and kissed him lightly on the cheek before she slipped out of bed, heading to the closest.

In the back of the closet was a brown cardboard box with some old clothes thrown in it. Underneath the clothes there were two large backpacks. Amélie grabbed the closer of the two, put it on, and headed to the front door, picking up her keys on her way out the door. She had to resist the urge to jump down the three story stair well, it was so much faster than walking down the steps to the parking garage.

Her motorcycle was a recent gift from Gérard for their first anniversary. It was a beautiful machine that he had matched perfectly to her tastes. High performance, lightweight frame, surprisingly quiet, and painted in shades of purple. She fell in love at first sight but had been embarrassed at the extravagance of the gift. She had sheepishly suggested that he hadn't needed to get something so expensive.

"I still have the receipt if you think we should return it." He had said.

"Try it and I will break your wrists." She shot back before kissing him.

She got on her bike and made her way to the less fortunate area of the city she had chosen. It only took 15 minutes with the lack of traffic at this time of night. The first rule for avoiding detection in legally questionable activity was to never work in your home territory, and the city had no shortage of violence and crime. The area she had chosen was nearby but not too close, high on poverty and dense residential buildings, and might actually benefit from the regular presence of an effective crime deterrent.

She pulled her motorcycle into a dark alleyway, parked behind a dumpster, and took a quick but careful look around to confirm that she wasn't being watched before opening her bag and retrieving the item sitting at the very top - her grappling hook from her time at Talon.

She typically avoided using professional grade tech, it draws too much unwanted attention. For the small time vigilante, but the mobility gear she had stolen from talon was almost too good to pass up. She was agile as anyone who had ever lept between rooftops but you simply could not replace a really good grappling hook. She used it sparingly, but having the option was too important.

She shot the hook up, zipped half a dozen or so stories to a rooftop, and found a solid anchor point to tie the wire around. She lowered herself back down to the ground, wrapped the wire around her bike, and slowly pulled it up to the roof as well, taking care not to scratch the paint. The last thing she wanted was to get her bike stolen and have to call Gérard to pick her up.

With her motorcycle safely stashed high above street level, she opened her bag and began changing into what Gérard liked to call her “super suit”. The first piece was a dark grey bodysuit made of bullet resistant weave, a lighter civilian available variation on the bullet proof bodysuits worn by serious heroes. It was quite expensive but it would rated to stop nearly all handguns with nothing more than a heavy bruise. Her mask was made of the same material built into a featureless ballistic mask to protect her face, and Satya had modified the eyes of the mask to include basic night vision equipment. She had also included the ability to make the eyes glow slightly because Satya understood the importance of theatrics.

Over this gear she wore a simple pair of dark leather pants, snug but not so tight that it would restrict movement, a matching leather jacket with a hood and a seen in second layer of security weave, a pair of protective boots with excellent traction, and a thin pair of climbing gloves.

Nothing in the suit was particularly special. Everything she wore would be available to anyone willing to drop a few thousand dollars, and even the modified mask was simple enough to qualify as “enthusiast” gear, the type of thing a particularly avid paint baller might pick up. If she ever needed to ditch the suit none of it could be traced back to her. It was much safer than using her talon gear, the last thing she wanted was to attract the sort of attention that would bring.

Now completely dressed, she took stock of her equipment: A prepaid cell phone, a pair of small knives fit for melee but balanced for throwing, a telescoping titanium baton, a small flashlight, and, for real emergencies, a 9mm handgun, loaded but not chambered. She also had a bottle of water and a protein bar, but she didn't really count that as "hero gear". She stashed her street clothes in her backpack except for her jacket, Hid the backpack next to her bike, and took off across the rooftops.

She waited until she was several buildings over, on top of an apartment building before deciding that she would drop down to street level. She flipped over the edge of the building, catching herself on the edge of the roof before letting herself fall down a story, catching the edge of a window to slow her fall. She repeated the process of falling and catching herself, effectively keeping herself in a controlled fall until she landed at street level. Cheers erupted from across the street. A group of teenage girls had watched her descent from the roof.

"That was amazing!" A girl shouted.

"We love you hero lady!" Another said.

Amélie nodded at the group (the girls squealed excitedly), pulled her hood up, and began walking down the street. She had an appointment to make.

Amélie arrived at her destination, a dive bar that attracted customers through a combination of decent barbecue and severely under dressed waitresses. She went around back, taking a moment to jump off a fence and onto the roof above the employee entrance.

Strictly speaking the hiding wasn't necessary. Anyone who has been paying attention knew she was somewhere nearby, but it had become a bit of a game. Amélie watched and waited, observing a handful of young women exit the building. Finally a young Korean woman walked out. She stopped and looked around the alley, scanning the shadows carefully. Amélie counted to 5 in her head, then dropped silently down behind her.

"I win again, miss Song." Amélie said, stepping out of the shadows.

"How the hell did you get behind me!?" Hana said, spinning around. 

"I win, that means you put on some real clothes, young lady." Amélie said, ignoring the question and handing her the spare jacket.

"I don't get why you care so much." Hana said, taking the jacket.

"I don't like what James makes you wear." Amélie said. "It's degrading."

Hana rolled her eyes as she put the jacket on. Hana's 'uniform' consisted of a pair of tight booty shorts that didn't even fully cover her butt and a halter top that was closer to a bra than a shirt. She was much shorter than Amélie and the jacket was a bit large anyway so it covered her up quite well.

"He used to have us wearing tank tops but we have been getting better business since we got the new uniforms." Hana said. They fell into step together, heading towards Hana's apartment.

"Well if he is selling more chicken wings I am sure that justifies exploiting his waitresses." Amélie said.

"We also get much better tips. I don't mind showing off a bit if it helps pay rent." Hana said.

Amélie bit back a response. Hana was technically an adult and it was her body, Amélie wasn't going to give her a hard time for doing what it took to get by.

"If things ever get really desperate let me know before doing anything drastic, alright?" Amélie said instead.

Hana didn't seem to have a response to that, and after a brief pause jumped to a different subject.

"Have you come up with a code name yet?" Hana asked.

Amélie sighed. She really didn’t want a code name. She wasn't a hero, she was just someone helping out. Code names were for important people. She didn't want to be important, she just wanted to help.

Truthfully she didn’t even think of herself as a hero. All she had done so far was stop a few muggings and chase off a small time drug dealer, but she was already a minor celebrity in the neighborhood. People loved the idea of having a guardian angel over their small corner of the city, and Amélie had to admit, if only to herself, that she loved the attention. 

"I was thinking something to do with spiders because of how you can climb and move so fast?" Hana said in response to Amélie's silence. "And also because you are kind of like Spiderman, our friendly neighborhood spider woman."

"I don't actually hate that line of reasoning." Amélie said. "But I'm not sure I need a code name."

"Well we can't just keep calling you hero lady forever." Hana pointed out. "And no matter how much you resist the idea you are a hero. You did save me, after all." 

"I was just doing my job." 

"Did you get paid?" Hana asked.

"No."

"Then it isn't a job. Cops get paid, you do this for free. That makes you a hero.” Hanna insisted. 

“Heroes don’t walk children home every Friday night.” Amélie countered.

“I am 19. I am not a child.” Hana pouted. 

“Practically a child.” Amélie said.

“And maybe they should.” Hana said, ignoring the jab. “I think the world would be better off if people got off their high horse and helped out the little guys a bit more often.”

"That is something we can agree on." Amélie said. She was well aware of the more important things that heroes often got up to, she had been involved in more than one of them, but so many big and important people lost track of reality. 

“If I ever become a hero, my name’s going to be D.va. Watch this!"

Hana jumped ahead, striking a pose.

"Love, D.va!" She said, forming a heart with her hands, tilting her head, and winking. Amélie laughed and Hana's face fell.

"Is it too much?"

"No, it is wonderful. Showmanship is a big part of being a hero, you just caught me off guard. It's a bit showy but it suits you well. The press will love it."

"Yeah, like Tracer! Cheers love, the cavalry's here!" Hana said in an excellent impersonation of the professional hero.

“What sort of powers are you hoping for?” Amélie asked.

“I want something that lets me protect people. You know Striker?”

“Yes, I know of her.”

“I want something like her. Something that lets me protect my teammates when we are fighting.”

“Teammates?” Amélie prompted.

“Oh yeah, I am going to have a team for sure. Solo heroes are cool,” Hana nodded towards Amélie, “But I work really good on teams. I’m a natural leader.”

“Don’t get your hopes up too high. Powers are rare.” Amélie said.

“I know, one in ten thousand, and then you don’t even know if they will be useful.” Hana said. “But that is easy for you to say, you have powers already."

“I’ll tell you what. If you get powers I’ll be the first on your team.” Amélie said. 

“As long as you know who is in charge.” Hana said. "I won't let you undermine my authority just because you are older than me."

“Of course, boss. I wouldn't dream of it.” Amélie said.


	2. Chapter 2

Around 4 am Amélie decided it was probably time to head home. She probably could have gone home much earlier, nothing ever happened this late, but she was enjoying climbing around and finding new and interesting paths across the area. 

She made her way back to the building where she had stashed her bag and motorcycle. They were both, of course, still there. It is not as if the average person even owned the kind of equipment needed to safely lower a motorcycle off a 6 story building.

The necessary process of ending a patrol was Amélie's least favorite part of heroing. Changing to street clothes, the process of lowering the hidden motorcycle, even driving home were all irritating when all she wanted was to get home and shower. 

Amélie hated the necessary but slow process of ending a patrol. The night was technically cool but her protective gear didn't breath well at all and jumping across roofs was quite the workout. The 15 minutes or so needed to change to her street clothes, lower the motorcycle, and drive home were exceptionally irritating when she could feel her skin crawling with how dirty she was. She needed a shower immediately. 

When she did finally get home she wasted no time heading for the bedroom, tossing her phone to the couch as she walked by.

She quietly opened the door and stepped into the bedroom, careful not to disturb Gérard. He wasn't snoring any longer but he had rolled around and tangled himself in a pile of blankets in the middle of the bed. Since Amélie rarely used the bed through the night he had developed a habit of sprawling over the bed and taking up all the available room in his sleep. It wasn’t really a problem, her hyper awareness made it extremely difficult to sleep with anyone close to her, so she had taken to sleeping on the couch. usually slept on the couch. The bed was for relaxing and snuggling.

Amélie carefully adjusted the blankets so Gérard was properly covered and wouldn’t wake up freezing, then went to the closest to stash her gear in the back of the closet again. She picked out an extra long pajama shirt before heading to the bathroom for her usual post patrol shower. The nights were fairly cool but her protective gear heavy and jumping around on roofs was a decent work out in the best conditions. She always relaxed much better when her skin felt clean, so a shower was a must tonight. When she finally felt clean she threw on her pajama shirt and went back out to the bedroom. She picked out a pillow and a blanket that Gérard wasn't tangled up in snuck away to the front room with her pillow and blanket, quietly closing the door behind her.

She picked up her phone on her way to sit down on the couch and opened the audio player on her phone, scrolling through a selection of 5 minute looping white noise tracks. She decided on a "light rain in a forest", rain was always a favorite for her. She wrapped herself in the blanket and laid down on the couch, doing her best to calm down and clear her mind.

Amélie didn't need much sleep but she did need to sleep eventually and It could hard to tell exactly how much she needed and when she needed it. She didn't get tired like she used to. Instead exhaustion piled up like stress, affecting her mood and judgement, making it harder and harder to function until she completely broke down. Angela had assigned her at least two hours of rest each night even if she didn’t manage to sleep, and most days she didn’t. It seemed to be helping quite a lot anyway.

Amélie closed her eyes and started the simple relaxation exercise Angela had taught her. Concentrate on every part of her body in turn, from the ends of her toes to the top of her head, conscious of everything she is feeling. Long, slow breaths, mind focused on the pleasant white noise…

Her eyes shot open. There had been a noise - metal on metal, just noticeable under the noise from her phone a normal person almost certainly would have missed it. She held still as a statue, straining her ears for the sound.

_ Clank, clank _ \- from the kitchen. A pan, probably.

She sighed, willing the tension away from her body. It was just Gérard in the kitchen, nothing to be afraid of.

_ Breath in, 4 seconds, breath out, 6 seconds… _

The room wasn’t quite as dark as it had been. She sat up, rubbing away the sleep from her eyes, and looked around. There was light coming through the edge of the window, around the heavy curtains they had installed. She must have fallen asleep, and slept quite deeply if Gérard had managed to sneak past without waking her up. She picked up her phone and checked the time as she shut off her white noise. Just before 8 am, so three hours? Maybe a bit more. That was actually quite good.

She stood up and wrapped her blanket around her shoulders as she walked to the kitchen. Gérard was cooking at the stove. Smelled like eggs. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Hmmm." She hummed into his back.

"Good morning to you too." Gérard said, looking over his shoulder. "Good to see you getting a bit of sleep."

"It's easier after patrol nights." Amélie said.

"Making some eggs. Want some?" He asked.

"Mmm-hmmm." She hummed, nuzzling into his back.

"How did your patrol go?"

She shrugged. 

"Nothing really happened, I didn’t have to fight anyone.” Amélie said. “Hana wants to be a superhero."

"Of course she does. I think she looks up to you.”

"She has a name picked out.” Amélie said, choosing to ignore his last comment. “She says I can be on her hero team, but only if I let her be team leader."

Gérard just laughed.

“I said yes, of course.” Amélie said over his laughing. "She's a good kid."

Amélie held her breath for a moment, choosing her next words carefully.

"I think she is really struggling." She said.

"Yeah?"

"I told you that she takes care of her sister?" She continued.

"You did.” Gérard said. “Amélie, I know you are trying to get at something. You don’t need to worry about saying what you want to say, remember? I wont get angry.”

“...Right. Sorry.” Amélie said.

“You don’t need to apologize. I know it can be hard.” Gérard said, turning halfway around to give her a quick hug. “What did you want to say?”

"I told her that if she really needs help, if things get desperate, that she should tell me."

"We don't need to wait until it gets that bad. What does she need?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'll figure that out." She hugged him close. "Thanks for understanding."

She held onto him silently for a few moments before he spoke again.

"So, the eggs are done. Are you going to let me go so we can eat?" Gérard asked.

She tightened her hold, grasping her hands together.

"Nope. I live here now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit short, but I already have about 2.5k written of the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angela is around 25 here. Ages are not going to be consistent with canon in many cases.

Powers were nothing new, but despite all the research that went into them they remained highly unpredictable. Doctors and scientists who specialized in powers were needed to help treat the unique health complications could come with having powers, and many clinics had a specialist dedicated to the treatment of supers. Gérard had called in favors and arranged for Amélie to be treated by the best, and the best was a young doctor by the name of Angela Ziegler. Angela was a super herself and was by far the most respected super specialist in the city. She had done theoretical work, but apparently she preferred Working with patients directly.

Amélie had been coming to Angela for a few months to help with her own unique difficulties. She had never been sure what Moira was doing to her during her medical check ups at talon, the only thing Moira ever told Amélie was that she needed to make ‘adjustments’. Amélie had never dared to ask for more information - asking questions led to more 'adjustments' until she stopped asking. 

Whatever Moira had been doing it seemed that it was keeping Amélie mentally stable, after she ran from Talon her condition had steadily deteriorated until she could barely function. Eventually she and Gérard had decided that they had to risk taking Amélie to a doctor. Angela had a reputation for respecting the privacy of patients and Amélie personally put a lot of stock into the idea that a doctor who had powers would far better understand the need for discretion.

As Amélie had feared her body was a mess. It was a difficult balance for Amélie deciding what she was willing to tell Angela but some things were impossible to hide. She had immediately recognized that Amélie had been experimented on, horrified even at the extent. According to Angela the modifications had been so extensive that she had trouble sorting between Amélie’s natural powers and Moira’s modifications. 

Angela had strongly suggested that Amélie should go to the authorities, experimentation like this was highly unethical and illegal. When Amélie had shown reluctance Angela had switched tactics, gently implying that she might have connections to some of the more prominent heroes in the city in case Amélie ever felt the need to discuss her trauma with someone. And that they very much looked down on the type of people who might take advantage of a young woman struggling to come to grips with her new powers.

While Amélie appreciated the not so subtle offer the thought of sending someone after Talon was terrifying. It did, however, give her an amount of confidence that she could tell Angela about her own plans for light hero work. The doctor had been surprisingly supportive on the condition that Amélie properly protect herself. She had even referred her to Satya, her wife and a brilliant engineer who created gear for many of the big name heroes in the area.

Since she had started hero work Angela had insisted that Amélie take a full range of assessment tests every time she came in.

"I feel like is all fairly redundant." Amélie said. "This is the sixth time you have had me take these tests."

"When someone starts using their powers regularly they tend to strengthen. Like exercising an unused muscle." Angela said.

"Can't you just scan me and look for things that are different?"

"My powers are more useful when I know what I am looking for. The more information I have when I start the better I am able to figure out exactly what is happening. Knowing how things change is particularly informative."

"So I am going to be taking these tests for a while?" Amélie asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. I know it is frustrating, but every case is unique and I sort of have to make it up as I go. The more information I have the better, you never know what might be important until you need it."

Amélie sighed and turned her attention to the screen. It was a simple test, meant to measure her reaction time. Press a button when she saw a light. It only took a few minutes, it really wasn't that bad. But then again, no single test was a problem. There were just so many that together they strained her patience.

Amélie finished the last test and Angela brought the results up on her tablet, reading the results for Amélie's benefit.

"It looks like your powers are still developing. Your fine motor precision, coordination,  processing speed, and multitasking ability are well above normal human levels and still improving at a minor rate.” Angela said. “Your reaction time… That doesn’t look right, just a second.” 

She scrunched up her face as she read, deep in thought as she tapped on the tablet. She got a paper and started writing numbers and doing some sort of calculation as she swiped through the data.

“Something I should worry about doctor?” Amélie asked after a minute or so.

“Sorry.” Angela said, snapping back to reality. “Uh, you should see this.”

Angela held the tablet up for Amélie to see. It appeared to be a timeline of her reaction test.

"The black lines are when you were supposed to press the button, adjusted for the earliest possible response. Green dots are where you reacted correctly, red dots are false reactions. The computer thinks your reactions have gotten worse, except that isn't quite right. If you look close you can see that there are a lot of red dots just before the black lines. You are reacting faster than the computer thinks is possible."

"So the test is not precise enough?"

"No, I don't think so. This is beyond the error margin.” Angela said, tapping her pencil on the paper she had been writing her calculation on. “These results would indicate precognitive abilities."

“I... didn’t know that was possible.”

"It is very rare. If you are a procog you are the first I have treated. I don't even have the necessary equipment to measure precognitive abilities, I didn't think I would ever need it."

"So I am going to have to do even more tests after you get it? That's going to be fun." Amélie said.

"I don't think that is a good idea, actually." Angela said, looking awkwardly at the ground.

"Why not?"

"I know you don't like talking about this, but you said that you were kidnapped after seeking help dealing with your emerging powers?"

Amélie nodded.

"If your initial testing showed evidence of precognitive abilities that might be why you were targeted. Precognition is dangerous, There are plenty of people who would kidnap a young woman to get their hands on a procog. If they are still after you then ordering precognition related equipment could lead them to you."

"Yes, I think it would be best to avoid that.” Amélie said with a grimace. “What can we do?”

“Satya and I should be able to improvise something. It won't be as effective but your safety is more important than accurate testing.”

"Is there anything I can do about it?”

“This doesn’t change anything in a practical sense. We will keep it to ourselves and I will make doubly sure that your information is secure. And I'll let my contacts know that someone might be targeting precogs, they can look into it." Angela said. "I think we should keep you as far away from this as possible."

"I am not going to run off and seek revenge, if that is what you are worried about." Amélie said. "Just… make sure your friends know it will be dangerous. They were not just experimenting on me, they wanted to make me a weapon. And they were very good at it.”

“I wondered if that was the case.” Angela said softly. “I’ll let them know.”

“They should probably talk to me, actually.” Amélie said after a moment of hesitation. “Maybe you can point them in my direction? I can tell them what I know, what to expect.”

An awkward silence filled the room. 

“I suppose you should do your scan now?” Amélie said, cutting the tension.

“Right, do you have any minor injuries I should heal while I do it? Scrapes or bruises, that sort of thing?” Angela asked.

“No, I have been careful.”

“That’s good, most people new to this end up with all sorts of minor injuries.”

“Most people? How many vigilantes do you know?” Amélie asked.

“Lots of supers with an appropriate power set give it a shot, actually. You are far from the first who has talked to me about it, but most of them give it up pretty quickly. No pay, dangerous work, and you don't even get properly famous because you need to do it all anonymously.” she said. 

“Did you ever want to be a hero?” Amélie asked.

Angela blushed, but grinned and nodded.

“I got my powers pretty young, and I had this idea that I could be a superhero medic. I had an angel theme picked out, my costume was going to have wings and a halo. My hero name was Mercy."

"A little on the nose, don't you think?" Amélie said. She could picture the doctor in an angel costume. She would wear it well, but it was a bit silly as hero gear.

"I was a teenager, I hadn't discovered subtlety. I'm sure you have a few embarrassing teenage stories."

"I wanted to get a large spider tattoo on my back when I was 16. I was so angry when my parents wouldn’t allow it.” Amélie said, grinning and staring into space as she recalled the ridiculous fight that had ensued.

“Oh, so you were one of the emo kids?”

“I think you mean goth, little miss angel.”

“Oh, please forgive the insult then.” Angela said in a good natured sarcastic jab. “Are you ready?”

“Go ahead.” Amélie said, closing her eyes and relaxing. Strictly speaking closing her eyes wasn’t necessary, but the doctor needed physical contact in order to use her power and as well as Amélie had learned to hide her emotions she could become quite flustered when Angela got close. Amélie felt the doctors fingers pressing against the side of her head and the familiar tingling sensation of her power working as the doctor took a look inside her head.

“Lets see…” The doctor said. Even if she couldn’t see her Amélie could feel how close she was. “Several of the unusually bright spots have gotten brighter. That is expected as your powers grow. I am seeing a few of them much brighter, probably tied to your precognition. And the darker spots have not grown as far as I can tell. Nothing too unexpected then.” Angela said, breaking contact.

Amélie opened her eyes to watch the doctor jot down some notes. They looked fairly unintelligible, but that was expected. Angela had developed the notation herself as a method of recording the information she could gather using her power.

“I think I am starting to understand what is going on. If we assume that the test is right about you being precognitive then that is why I had trouble interpreting your powers. Without any previous precognitives to compare to I was seeing something completely new.” Angela explained.

“I think I can say quite confidently now that the darker spots are the result of whatever experimentation was performed on you, small parts of your brain seem to have been deliberately damaged. I can’t say why they would have done this for sure. It could have been an attempt to make your powers more pronounced, but that is just speculation.” 

“I am getting closer to understanding your natural powers and what we might be able to do to repair the damage done to you, but we are not there yet. Without a clear idea of what I am doing repairing the damaged spots in your brain would be extremely dangerous.”

“That makes sense.” Amélie said.

“Are the drugs still helping? Do we need to make any adjustments?” 

Amélie resisted flinching at the question. It was such a silly thing to be bothered by.

“I am having a lot fewer bad days, I think they are doing their job. The breathing exercises help a lot when it does get bad.”

“Alright, and you are sleeping alright?”

“I got around 6 hours last week. I think I sleep better after a patrol, I got nearly three hours at once on saturday.”

“That is a real improvement.” Angela said, making a note in her file. “I think that covers everything.”

“Anything else I should know?”

Angela hesitated for a very small moment before responding.

“No, that’s everything.” Angela said, closing the file.

“Angela, I have super human perception. I can tell you wanted to say something.” Amélie said, rolling her eyes.

“Well, I was going to ask a favor, but you already have a lot going on…”

“You have done so much for me. You can at least ask.”

“Alright, but only if you promise not to agree if it is too much.” Angela said. “It could be a little dangerous. And it is technically illegal, so I don’t want to pressure you into anything you are not comfortable with.”

“I promise.” Amélie said. “Now out with it.”

“Alright…” Angela opened her locked filing cabinet and pulled out a file. She copied down some information - a name, an address, a phone number.

“I really shouldn’t be sharing this with you, but I have a patient who is being abused by her boyfriend. She wont report it, she is too frightened. I was wondering if you could check on her, see if you can help her somehow? Maybe, I don’t know, tell him to stay away from her?”

“That won't be a problem, but why me? You have connections with real heroes.” Amélie asked, taking the paper from Angela.

“I do, but how do you think, for example, Pharah would handle a situation like this? She would probably blow up his car or something.” Angela said.

That was a decent point. The big three were known for being flashy and loud. This matter called for a more delicate approach.

“I’ll take a look, but I can’t promise anything.” Amélie said.

“Of course, do what you think is best.” Angela said.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay, and thanks a bunch to Rhitta for being patient while I worked through a difficult summer!

Amélie left the clinic, stepping out into the din of the city at midday and beginning the walk towards the subway.  


It wasn’t rush hour, but even regular traffic was well above Amélie’s tolerance, and the roar of subway trains layered over the voices of the passengers would be unbearable. Moving around a city with her powers was painfully overwhelming, a big enough problem that she practically required ear protection to be out at any time but well into the dead of night. To that end she had invested in a pair of noise canceling headphones with a protection rating sufficient for gunfire, which typically allowed her to block out enough noise to make city life bearable. By now it had become second nature to reach for her headphones as soon as things started to get overwhelming, and she already had too much on her mind to deal with the conversations of every pedestrian she walked past.

Dr. Zeigler had given her a lot to think about. Amélie had always thought that Talon had taken her more or less randomly. She had fallen out with her parents, she was alone and largely without connections struggling to prove that she could make it all on her own. It would be a very long time before anyone noticed she was gone and a cold trail was easy to cover. She and Gerard had assumed she would be safe after she disappeared - capturing or even killing someone as dangerous as Amélie was a major risk. As long as they didn’t interfere with Talon they figured she would be safe enough.  


But if Angela was right she had been targeted specifically, and that made her situation much more dangerous. Talon might not be willing to let go truely unique abilities so easily. Was Gerard in danger? What about Angela’s clinic? A hundred gloomy and frightening questions bounced around her mind as she made the short walk toward the station and underground. The more she considered the information the more she decided that she had made the right decision asking Angela to send over one of the big heroes. She might even have to join the fight herself. Making a stand on her own terms had many advantages over waiting for Talon to find her.

She didn’t have enough information to make a decision right now. She needed to talk to the heroes, see what they thought. Until then, there was nothing to do but wait.

She checked her phone. Just after one, Gerard would be at work for at least 4 more hours, and the trip home would take less than thirty. She didn’t like the idea of waiting alone at home with all these thoughts in her head, that was a panic attack waiting to happen. Better to keep herself busy, and while she couldn’t exactly sneak over rooftops during broad daylight there were other options. Instead of taking her usual train home she hopped on the one headed towards her territory.  


* * *

Amélie traveled the familiar route to Hana’s apartment, knocking on the door in the manner she judged most polite. A few moments later Amélie heard steps, then the door cracked open, the chain still in place as a young girl, perhaps 15 years old, peeked out at Amélie. It must have been Yuna, Hana’s little sister.

"Can I help you?" She asked, inspecting Amélie with a critical eye.  


"Hello, I'm looking for Hana Song." Amélie said, returning her best attempt at a non threatening, reassuring smile.

"I'll get her, just a minute." The girl said, closing the door. Amélie absentmindedly tracked the girl's footsteps as she moved through the apartment, and opening a door.

Amélie didn't exactly eavesdrop. It was just an unfortunate fact that with a combination of hyper awareness and supernatural senses that she couldn't always avoid hearing things, and when she heard things it was impossible to ignore them. She'd stopped fighting it eventually, settling instead on her headphones to help her filter out the world when she needed to.  


It wasn’t a perfect solution.

"Hana! Your sugar mommy is here." She said in a sing song, teasing voice.

Amélie's attention snapped into focus. Is that what this looked like?

"What? No I don’t have - She doesn’t know what she is talking about! I’m muting you nerds!" Hana said with irritation.

"Then who's the french hottie at the door?"  


"How am I supposed to know who a random woman at the door is?" Hana said. Her voice was getting closer. "And you don’t even know what a sugar mommy is, you shouldn’t just say things like that."

"Yes I do. It's when a rich lady gives a younger lady 'gifts' for sex." Yuna said.  


“You are my baby sister!” Hana gasped, “You are not supposed to know about things like that!" She was just on the other side of the door, attempting a scandalized yell and hushed whisper at the same time.

"Duh. You've had one before and I am  _ not _ a baby. Brigitte is going to be jealous!"

"We are going to talk about this later!" Hana hissed in a surprisingly strong mom voice, sliding back the chain and opening the door.

"Hello! Can I help you?" Hana said in an innocent and cheery tone at odds with the brief argument she’d had moments before. It was early afternoon but she looked like she had just climbed out of bed. She was wearing pajama shorts, a large t shirt that she was practically swimming in, and a ponytail that was mostly just a tangled mess. Amélie found it wholesome in how far it was from the usual sexed up look she wore to work. Yuna was a little further back, leaning over the back of a couch and watching Amélie with some interest.

"It's good to see you, young lady."

It was an odd way to start a conversation, but Hana was a smart girl. It took her only a moment to figure it out and Amélie watched with some satisfaction as understanding dawned on her face. Amélie was not afraid to admit to herself that she liked making an impression. Even Talon had difficulty suppressing that particular personality quirk.

"Oh! It's good to see you too, uh, ma'am?" Hana said.

"Ha, I knew it!" Yuna said. Hana flashed her an annoyed look over her shoulder. Yuna stuck out her tongue.

"May I come in?" Amélie asked, deciding it was better not to get in the middle of sibling bickering.

"Oh, yeah, sure." Hana said, stepping aside to let Amélie in then closing the door behind her.

The front room was set up as a living room, centered around a large TV with a video game console hooked up to it. The walls were cinder block painted white, an unfortunately common sight in the lower income housing in this area. It gave the distinct impression of being in a concrete box, an impression that was helped along by the relatively weak lighting and dingy windows. Still, the girls had made a valiant effort in decorating to make the place more comfortable, with much of the walls with pictures of the sisters and a variety of posters. Amélie especially noted a poster featuring the local ‘big three’ as they were commonly known: Pharah, Tracer, and Striker.  


It looked as if the whole apartment had been arranged and decorated with a good deal of thought, if on a very tight budget, but had since gotten away from the girls. Amélie certainly could have imagined worse, but it was filled with the kind of mess you might expect would be generated by two young women; clothing scattered around, a large pile of unsorted laundry next to the couch, and a couple old pizza boxes on the coffee table.

"Soooo, how do you two know each other?" Yuna asked, leaning her chin in her hands and grinning.

Hana hesitated, looking to Amélie for some indication of what to say.

"I'm not going to ask you to keep a secret from your sister." Amélie said.

"Yeah, you can tell me." Yuna said in a sing song tone, clearly implying something silicious.  


Amélie chose not to react, maintaining the passive face of someone aggressively pretending to be oblivious. She didn't believe for a moment that they bought it but it didn’t really matter, this was a sparring match between sisters. It wasn't actually her business even if she was very much enjoying her position as a spectator. A smirk formed on Hana's face, clearly relishing the fact that she was about to drop a bomb on her sister.

" _ She’s _ a superhero." Hana said with a touch of smugness.

Yuna took a few seconds to respond to that, her eyes snapping over to Amélie, taking a much closer look at her, then back to her sister again, who nodded.

"You're the one who has been walking Hana home?" Yuna asked.

"I am, though I would hardly call myself a superhero.”

Hana rolled her eyes.

“Thanks for helping my sister.” Yuna said, looking down and awkwardly running her hand through her hair.

“It’s the least I can do.” Amélie said. It was a few awkward moments before anyone said anything more.  


"So, uh, I don't actually know your name," Hana said, “but, and don’t take this the wrong way, it’s great to meet you without your mask and all, but, uh, why are you here?”

"My name is Amélie. And I didn’t come for any specific reason, I was near the area and I have some time. I know you two have been struggling to keep on top of everything, so I thought I could do something to help.”

“What, like cleaning?” Yuna asked.

“Yes, that sort of thing.”

“That is really weird.” Yuna said.

“Yunie, don’t be rude.” Hana said with a sigh.

“I’m just saying!”

“I can leave if it is too uncomfortable. I don’t want to cause any inconvenience.” Amélie said, directing the statement to Yuna.

“No, It’s ok. It’s just… weird.”

“I am a weird person.” Amélie said. That earned a smile from the young woman.

“Well I guess we could use help cleaning.” Hana said, looking around at the less than ideal state of the apartment, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck.

“How about I start with the dishes?” Amélie asked, looking into the kitchen and, as expected, finding a sink piled high with dirty dishes.

“Yeah, that would be great.” Hana said with a bit of hesitation.

“You two just keep on doing whatever you were doing. I don’t want to interrupt.” Amélie said, walking towards the kitchen.

“Are you sure this is ok?” Hana asked, trailing behind.

“Yes. You need to rest before your shift tonight. Go play a game or something, I’ll take care of this.” Amélie said, opening the dishwasher.

“Ok, if you say so.” Hana said with a shrug, wandering away and down the hall.

Amélie found gloves, dish soap, and began washing the dishes. She had never been excellent at house work, Talon had prioritized more lethal skills and she had come from the sort of family that had hired help, but since she had moved in with Gerard she had gotten much more practice. She found keeping her hands busy calming. She quickly settled into a pattern, letting her mind wander, planning her patrol for the night.

It was several moments before she realized that she was listening in on another one of the sister’s conversations, absorbing their words without even thinking about it. Their voices were quiet but clear behind a closed door down the hall.

“What do you think of her?” Yuna asked.

“She’s cool. It’s really awesome that she helps people during the day too.”

Amélie sighed, looking over at her purse. She should have gotten her headphones before she started, now her hands were wet.

"Yeah, but what is she doing here?” Yuna asked Hana. Amélie couldn’t help but notice that there was a current of distress in Yuna’s voice as she pulled off the gloves.

"To do our dishes, I guess." Hana said. "I am surprised as you are."

"What if she is here because she thinks you can't take care of me? She might tell child services to take me away from you. The apartment is really messy, and she said she knows we are having a hard time.”

"That isn't going to happen. She has never acted like someone who would do that." Hana said, but there was a hint of doubt in her voice.

Amélie mentally kicked herself. God, how could she have been so stupid? She knew the pair had really bad experiences with the foster care system, random adults showing up to “help” would have bad associations. She dried her hands, quickly reached for her headphones and shoved them over her ears, starting her music so she could drown out the rest of their conversation before she overheard anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuna is like 15 or 16, Hana is around 20. I had their ages figured out at one point but I am going to have to look that up.
> 
> They are sisters by adoption, having both gone through the foster care system at the same time. I don't know if I made that clear enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got way into my own head about writing this so it took forever because I kept on getting anxious. Glad the next chapter is finally out!

By the time the dishes were finished Amélie had decided on a course of action. She removed the gloves and her headphones, and walked to room that Hana and Yuna had been talking in. She knocked on the door.

“Hana, Yuna? Can I talk to you for a moment?” She asked through the door.

A moment later Hana opened the door. Yuna was laying on the bed playing a game on a handheld system.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Hana asked.

“So this is going to be a bit awkward.” Amélie said, barreling into her explanation before she could get cold feet. “But I need to tell you something. My powers include super human senses, including hearing. My hearing is powerful enough that it isn't difficult for me to hear whispered conversations through a door. And it is actually almost impossible for me to ignore them." 

Amélie shifted awkwardly, fidgeting with her hands. It took about a second before a look of horror appeared on both girl’s faces.

"You don't need to worry!" Amélie added quickly. "As soon as I realized you were having a private conversation I got my headphones - they help me block out noise, once I had them on I couldn't hear you anymore. I am sorry I didn’t tell you earlier and that I didn’t have my headphones ready. To be completely honest, I don’t have many friends and I never have to worry about this around my husband. It did not occur to me.”

“Oh.” Hana said. “Thank you for telling us, I guess.”

“That apology made, I did hear Yuna express concern that I might try to separate you. I want to assure you that I have no such intention. I am not here to take you away from each other or decide if this is the best situation possible for either of you. Frankly, that is not my business and I am not going to presume that I know what you need better than you. Truthfully I am mostly here because of other things in my life that I feel helpless about. I was hoping that I could do something real, actually help.”

“You helped me.” Hana pointed out.

“That’s just damage control.” Amélie said dismissively. “Reacting will only get you so far, it only stops things from getting worse. If you want things to improve you have to change something.”

“Ok, I have so many questions.” Yuna said, holding up a hand. “You wanted to do something to really help, so you decided to come do our dishes?”

Amélie shrugged.

“Why not? I can lighten the load on you and your sister. Make things better, even if it is just for a couple people.”

“I never really thought about it like that.” Yuna said.

“You had other questions?” Amélie prompted. Questions were good, it would help them be comfortable if they knew more about her.

There were a few moments of awkward pause while the girls thought about everything. 

“If you could hear our conversation then, what about when I answered the door?” Yuna asked.

Amélie chuckled. 

“Maybe.”

“Oh my god.” Hana said, burying her face in her hands while Yuna cackled.

Whether by her assurances she had no intention to split the girls up or because of her somewhat awkward handling of the situation the girls seemed to be much more relaxed. They stayed with Amélie, each of them pitching in the clean up until the apartment was in a decent state. With all three working it didn’t take long. When they finished Amélie ordered pizza and the trio relaxed on the sofa while Yuna played a game. They swapped questions with each other, getting to know each other better.

“I know you are adopted sisters, how long have you been together?” Amélie asked.

“We were put with the same foster family, um, 6 years ago?”

“Yeah, I was 10.” Yuna said happily. “I got a sister for my birthday. Our turn, you are married?”

“Coming up on two years since the wedding.” Amélie said. “We have been together for almost four.”

“How did you meet? Was it romantic?” Hana asked.

“It might be better if I don’t explain the exact circumstances behind our meeting.”

“Oh, were you heroing? Was it a damsel in distress situation?” Yuna asked.

Amélie laughed.

“No, not at all. It is a bit private though.”

“Boooo.” Hana said, taking another bite of pizza.

“How about how he proposed? I can tell you that.”

“Oh, that sounds exciting.” Yuna said.

Amélie took a few moments to decide how to start.

“I used to be a dancer. It was my dream before my life was interrupted by my powers. My parents and I actually fell out over it, they wanted me to be a lawyer, carry on the family tradition of being absolutely no fun and making lots of money. I loved to dance. I still do whenever I get the chance."

"What kind of dancing?" Hanna asked.

"I was a professional ballerina."

"Aww, cute!" Yuna said.

"I was very good. But I got powers and it all fell apart.”

“That’s not a very happy start.” Hana complained. Amélie shrugged.

“Maybe not, but that is life. You can complain, but it doesn’t change the facts. Reality is what it is. Best to do what you can with what you have instead of wallowing in what might have been.”

“What happened with your powers?”

“I hear and see everything, I can’t stop focusing on it. My doctor calls it hypervigilance. It can be overwhelming, even now that I have had a decade to practice dealing with it. I also have super human control over my movements. I can actually dance better than ever now, but I could not handle the intense stimulation of everyday life, let alone being the center of attention in a theater.”

“Anyway, Gerard knew this. He took me to the ballet. It was the first time I had been able to see  performance in person in years. It was beautiful. And I started to cry, it was a lot to handle. Old regrets coming to the surface. It was wonderful to see but it hurt. He held me close the entire performance, helped me handle it so I could watch.”

“There is a moment when you find a person you love when you realize that you no longer just want to be with them. You want to be with them forever. It isn’t dramatic. You would think that this moment came to me when he held me close in his arms, comforting me. Maybe that would have been more romantically appropriate. But later that night we were in bed. He had already fallen asleep, and I was in his arms. We can’t sleep in the same bed because of my heightened senses. I knew I should get up, go to my own bed, and try to get some sleep. I didn't want too. I kept putting it off, and I realized I didn't want to ever not be with him."

“It is one thing to realize something as profound as knowing you want to spend your life with someone, it is another to act on it. I put it in the back of my mind until I could decide what to do about it.”

"A couple weeks later he told me that he had a surprise. He took me to a local small theater. He had talked to the manager, told them about how I missed performing on stage. He had arranged to give me a couple hours between rehearsals and for the first time in many years I danced in a theater, on a stage. There was even a small audience, the theatre crew were watching while they took their break between rehearsals. It was wonderful. I go there once or twice a month still."

“When we were driving home from the theater we were both so happy. In the middle of our conversation, out of nowhere, he looked over at me and said ‘We should get married.’ I agreed.”

"That was it? That's all?" Hana said, deflating. “Honestly it is a bit disappointing. I was hoping for something flashier.” 

"Oh, he made a more formal proposal a couple weeks later. He had a ring, knelt on the stage, everyone clapped and we danced and that was wonderful, but this was the moment that we decided to spend our lives together. From that moment on he was mine, and I was his, forever. I will never forget how happy I was knowing it in that moment." Amélie explained. “That’s real love. Grand romantic gestures are wonderful but real love is in your connection to one another.”

The girls thought about that for a second.

“Yeah, but you have to admit it would be pretty disappointing if he hadn’t done a  _ real  _ proposal.” Yuna said.


	6. Chapter 6

Amélie left the girls before Hana had to go to work. She was sure that Yuna could have used the company, but no one was comfortable enough with the situation to suggest it. At least not yet that might come in time if the girls decided they wanted her to come around. Amélie hoped that she had made a good first impression, the girls could use some help, but she gathered that they had been burned before by ‘well meaning’ authority figures.

In any case, Gerard would be home soon and she had received details on when to meet Pharah to give information on Talon. Angela had arranged it for tonight, probably to make sure that Amélie didn’t get cold feet. It was also late enough that Amélie was starting to see the start of the rush hour crowds on the street. Lots of people, lots of noise. It was irritating but workable with her headphones. If she got caught in peak rush hour it would be a nightmare. 

She got to the subway station and sat down in a corner as far away from people as she could manage, got out her phone, and started working on the information Angela had given her on the abused woman. Nattalie Graves. 

Amélie was a trained assassin. Information gathering on a target was one of her specialties and digging up the details on most civilians from publicly available information was trivial. Modern social media being what it was people were literally volunteering to have their personal information available if anyone cared to look. In ten minutes she had the name of the boyfriend (Eric Parker), his job, a rough idea of his schedule, and a phone number. She honestly had not expected it to go this smoothly, she was used to tracking targets that had some idea of basic information security practices. 

With all of this she would be ready to move on him tonight. The only problem was what to do about it. A threat might ward him off for a little while but if he didn’t take it seriously enough it might just make him angry. She simply didn’t trust cops for so many reasons and Nattalie apparently didn’t either. 

Even lost in thought some part of her mind registered a man approaching her. Her first instinct was to evaluate him as a threat - insignificant. Her second instinct was to evaluate if she would have to deal with him - almost certain. She inwardly sighed as the man sauntered over to her, switching over to a video in the empty hope that he might see she was busy and go away.

The man hovered over her, hand propped up against the wall, boxing her in. probably some sort of pick up artist jackass.

“Can I help you?” She said coldly, looking up at him for the first time.

“As a matter of fact, I think you can."

“I’m married.” Amélie said with a sigh.

“I don’t see a ring.”

The response was predictable. Jewelry of almost any kind was extremely irritating for her to wear, she kept her ring at home in a small locked box.

“Take a hint, I’m not interested.” She said, looking back down at her phone. She was awfully tempted to break his wrist. It would be so easy and the jerk deserved it, hovering over her, boxing her in. He was trying to intimidate her. He couldn't believe this was a winning strategy to get her into bed, and that meant he was the sort that got off on intimidating women. The only problem was that breaking his arm would inevitably end up bringing cops into the situation and with Talon after her attracting attention was a terrible idea.

“Aww, don’t be like that hun. Let me show you a good time.”

“She said no.”

Amélie's attention snapped to the newcomer. Egyptian accent, female voice. Tall and big, the build of a soldier and she held herself like she knew how to fight. Brown skin, tattoo under her right eye, and attractive if you were into the sort of woman that could bench press you.

She could take this guy apart. Maybe he would get what was coming to him after all.

“Who asked you?” The man growled, turning on the woman.

“You get one chance to walk away.” She said.

The man actually looked like he might throw a punch, but what little sense he had won out over his sense of pride.

“Whatever.” He said, pushing past the woman. She kept an eye on him as he walked away, no doubt making sure he didn't throw a sucker punch. Eventually she turned back to look at Amélie with a reassuring smile. 

“Are you ok?”

By the time she had turned towards Amélie she had anticipated the question and considered her options; another habit from her time at Talon. The most authentic response would be expressing regret that he had gotten away without being maimed, but she was in her territory out of costume. Maintaining a secret identity required playing her part in mask and out. The opposite end of the spectrum, playing hard into gratitude and relief, had a certain appeal. If Amélie was any judge at all tall, dark, and sexy had quite the hero complex. Amélie would happily play the damsel for her, flirting with hero types was endless fun. But establishing her civilian identity as helpless would be short sighted, it wouldn't fit if she actually did have to break an arm or two someday.

"I'm alright. Thank you for your help, I wasn't sure how I was going to deal with him."

It seemed like a good balance. It was technically honest (the _best_ kind of honest), suggested confidence, but also openly acknowledged that she had been rescued.

“I was hoping you were going to teach him a lesson.” Amélie added with a smile calculated to convey a hint of embarrassment. The woman laughed.

“Unfortunately vigilante justice is frowned on and I am trying to keep my nose clean.”

“Amélie Lacroix. Good to meet you.” Amélie said, holding out her hand.

“Fareeha Amari.” The woman said, taking Amélie’s hand in a firm grip.

Amélie’s train chose that exact moment to roll up to the station, as if the universe had decided that she wasn’t allowed to flirt with this particular woman tonight. She sighed and gave Fareeha an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry, this is my train.”

“Hopefully I’ll see you around sometime.” Fareeha said.

Blowing a kiss to her as she walked to the train. If she couldn’t have her fun now she’d set up for later.

"Je garderai l'oeil ouvert, chérie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amelie's french line translates to "I'll keep my eye open, dear."
> 
> Thanks to french_medusa for the translation!

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this please consider following my blog: 
> 
> https://luckyladylily.tumblr.com/
> 
> I post writing updates, talk about what I am writing, answer questions, and do basically whatever I want over there.


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